


The Hardest Part

by Anarchyduck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Guilt, Hurt Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29318484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyduck/pseuds/Anarchyduck
Summary: Peter reaches to push up the mask from his face, but other hands catch him around the wrists. “No, don’t do that.” The familiar voice pierces through the sludge and Peter latches onto it.“Mr. Rhodey? What’s… Why?” He can see the familiar black and grey suit in his peripheral, kneeling beside him. Yet when he tries turning his head, he cannot.He can’t turn his neck.///Fight goes badly and Peter is severely injured.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 129





	The Hardest Part

**Author's Note:**

> For Febwhump 2021 - prompt: impaling

It is strangely quiet when Peter comes back to consciousness. He blinks as little black dots retreat to the farther edges of his vision. Much to his dismay, he sees his suit is torn from a cut that runs from his knee and wraps around his thigh. _‘There goes my ‘No Suit Damage’ streak,’_ he thinks mournfully. Oddly enough it does not hurt.

Peter frowns as he tries to piece things together, figure out what is going on, but it is all muddled. It’s cobwebs covered with molasses and mud, and he’s trying to wade through it waist deep. There is something else that tugs at a thread, something that feels important and leaves a dull ache at the back of his neck.

He tries thinking of something else. What was he doing? Fighting. He was fighting someone – no, they were fighting someone. A gang of illegal arms dealers who’d gotten their hands on alien tech. Just down the river from the compound, outside the city. Technically not Avenger business, but he managed to convince Tony it would be better if they handled it rather than local police. He and Tony… no, he and Tony _and Rhodey_ tracked the gang to a construction site. Office buildings. Concrete and metal and dirt. Someone threw a cement truck at him.

The rest is a blank.

Peter reaches to push up the mask from his face, but other hands catch him around the wrists. “No, don’t do that.” The familiar voice pierces through the sludge and Peter latches onto it. 

“Mr. Rhodey? What’s… Why?” He can see the familiar black and grey suit in his peripheral, kneeling beside him. Yet when he tries turning his head, he cannot.

He can’t turn his neck.

“M-Mr. Rhodey?” Peter’s heart beats wilder, faster. The back of his neck burns, the smell of blood and sweat filling his nose, strangling him. “I ca-can’t… I can’t!”

Rhodey, mercifully, pushes up his mask over his nose and Peter gasps for breath. He wants to get up, wants to move, but something screams to him no. Do not move. Be still. Do not move.

He can’t turn his neck.

“You gotta breathe. Focus on your breathing, Pete, or you’re going to pass out.” Rhodey says at his side, his hand holding Peter’s and squeezes. It helps, brings him back down and Peter works on those exercises Tony told him about ( _Breath in through your nose. Hold. Then release through your mouth. Repeat._ )

“Good.” Rhodey says. “Can you tell me what hurts? What’s your pain level?”

Peter hesitates. “Uh, not bad?” he takes another deep breath, only to wince as pain catches in his side. “Ribs kinda hurt.”

“That’s it? Nothing else?”

Peter wants to shake his head, but the voice screams no ( _do not move, do not move_ ). “N-No, don’t think so.” He licks his lips, tastes blood. Smells blood. “What’s going on?”

Before Rhodey can answer, another metal suit lands beside him. “Oh fuck.” Tony breathes. There’s an edge, a shudder, that makes his blood run cold.

His eyes widen behind his mask. Nothing comes across the HUD. Karen is down. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. “Mr. Stark, what-“

_He can’t turn his neck._

“Not now, tones.” Suddenly Rhodey’s voice sounds miles away. A hundred, no, a thousand miles away. Peter can barely hear it over his own rapid heartbeat.

“He has an iron rod through his fucking-”

Whatever else Tony says fades out. Peter only knows the panic that grips his throat, roots him in place. His back is pressed against a slab of concrete, cold and sticky. Thoughts scramble in his mind and he feels like he is drowning. The world narrows to a point and he can only see the blood wound on his leg, only smell blood.

“—eter. Peter! Shit, he’s going into shock. Tony, cut it!”

“FRI, alert the medical team. Tell them to get ready.”

“Kid, stay awake. We’re going to get you out, just stay—”

“Talk to me, Pete!”

Peter doesn’t hear the rest. 

\------

There are a few horrifying moments that are seared into Tony Stark’s brain. One was flying through the wormhole over New York City while carrying an armed nuclear warhead. Another was helplessly watching Pepper fall into a raging ball of fire. The third was seeing Rhodey plummet to the earth. 

And now he has a fourth - the sight of Peter Parker with an iron rebar sticking through his skull. 

Tony runs his hands through his hair, leg bouncing anxiously. He feels useless. More than useless. Like he should be doing something. He picks at his nails, paces, fights the urge to retreat to his lab. He catches himself several times looking at the door every time he hears a noise that sounds remotely like footsteps. 

When they arrived, Helen and her team met them at the door with a gurney. Peter was rushed away for surgery and that was it. All they can do is wait. As time stretches, the more Tony replays the scene in his head. The image of a cement truck hurtling through the air, hitting Spider-Man and knocking him through a cinderblock wall. FRIDAY’s voice in his ears telling him Karen was offline. Rhodey goes to the kid first because he’s closer, because Tony is too busy blasting away the guy who dared throw a truck at his kid. 

Tony covers his face and rubs his eyes hard enough to see flashes of white. The scene replays again and ends with the same horrifying result.

“Okay,” Rhodey sighs as he returns to the waiting lounge. “Just got off the phone with Happy. He and May will be here in a couple hours.” He takes a seat in the chair across. “Tony, stop. I can hear you blaming yourself all the way over here.”

“I should have done something.” Tony drags his hands from his face as he leans back on the sofa. “Should’ve seen that guy quicker.”

“It’s not your fault.” 

Tony shakes his head. “Isn’t it?” he scoffs and looks away. “It was supposed to be a casual weekend visit. Hanging out in the lab, staying up watching movies, that’s it. No fighting, no going up against crazy gangs with stolen, modded tech. I shouldn’t have let him go.”

“You think he really would’ve wanted to be put on the bench?” Rhodey asks and when Tony doesn’t answer, he continues, “He’s going to get hurt, Tones. Best you can do is be there.” 

He isn’t sure if it helps, but Tony nods anyway. “Yeah.”


End file.
